


The More Things Change

by paintedwolf



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 13:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19199908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintedwolf/pseuds/paintedwolf
Summary: There are many responsibilities that come with being Haven's Chief of Police. Among them: keeping the town safe, making sure the Troubles stay under wraps, and judging the occasional stick-lamp-making competition.





	The More Things Change

"Final report on the Tarley case, Chief."

"Thanks, Betty," said Nathan, taking the yellow folder and setting it down in front of him. "What was the conclusion? Gas leak?"

"Faulty wiring in the kitchen."

"Right," he said as he skimmed over the first page.

"Wasn't Decker the lead on this? Woulda thought he'd bring me the paperwork himself."

"He was going to, but I offered. I, uh, actually wanted to ask you something."

Her cheeks reddened slightly. Nathan clasped his hands on top of the desk, and leaned forward a little. "Go ahead."

"Well," she started. "I was wondering if you were maybe free next Saturday?"

Nathan blinked.

"Oh, uh, _God_ , that came out wrong. I meant...my daughter is president of the Art Club at her school, and we were talking the other day about those stick-lamp contests we had that Chief Wuornos used to judge? So now they've decided they want to do one too, and since you're the Chief now, we were thinking..."

She stopped, waving her hand a little, looking expectant.

It took a second before Nathan clicked.

"You want _me_ to judge it?"

-

"So what's this I'm hearing about you judging a lamp-making contest?"

Tracy Garrick swiped a cloth across the bar, and slid a beer over to him almost before he'd asked. He took a swig before pulling out one of the bar stools and sitting down.

He glanced at Audrey next to him, but she shrugged, only just this side of guilty as she stirred her drink with a maraschino cherry.

"Yeah," he said. "Betty Allen asked me yesterday."

"Huh."

"What?" asked Nathan.

Tracy smiled, though he couldn't quite tell if the expression on her face was bewildered or impressed. "Just never figured you to be the artistic type."

"Then you clearly don't know Nathan, Trace."

Duke sauntered over beside Tracy, setting a glass of Scotch down, and leaned over the bar-top into their conversation like he'd always been there. Couple weeks back, that would've got Nathan's hackles up, but they'd come to an understanding again after that whole thing with Ginger and the Guard.

"Don't need to be artistic to be a judge. The Chief did it a few times and he wasn't."

Duke snorted. "Sorry. I was just imagining Garland trying to put together a popsicle-stick lamp."

"So are you gonna do it?" asked Audrey.

"Yeah.” Nathan shrugged. “It’d be an honour."

"And Nathan _is_ kind of the expert on popsicle-stick lamps. Aren't you, Nate?"

He frowned at Duke, but though his words could easily be mistaken for taking a dig at him, his eyes said otherwise.

"So when is this thing happening?" asked Tracy.

"Next Saturday."

Duke exchanged a _look_ with him, loaded with many things neither of them wanted to talk about. When Betty had asked, he hadn't even been thinking about the meteor shower. Now it seemed like just another thing to mark the date getting closer. He took another sip of beer. Watched Audrey for a second, laughing at whatever Tracy had just said that he hadn't heard.

"Hey, did I ever tell you what happened the first popsicle-lamp contest?"

His eyes raked over Duke, who glanced up from his glass on the counter.

 _Not tonight_ , his eyes said.

Audrey and Tracy turned back to him, and Duke moved to fetch a chair to sit on.

He started: "So there was this one kid who…"

 

_6 months later_

 

Things changed fast sometimes. The last time Nathan had walked into the station, he had been Chief. Now, he was all but public-enemy-number-one, Duke had been missing- presumed dead- for months, and Audrey wasn’t Audrey but Lexie. Things were as screwed up as they’d ever been; more so, depending on who you spoke to, and yet…

When he walked past the front desk and saw the lamp - one foot tall, in the shape of a fir tree and twinkling softly with fairy-lights - he smiled.

That weekend had been the last time they'd done something just for the hell of it, and even though they'd had the meteor shower hanging over their heads, none of the kids who had entered the contest knew that. Nathan had been determined, just for that day, that they'd just _be._

He still remembered when he'd laid eyes on the little tree. It maybe hadn't been the most technically complicated thing he'd seen that day, but it had been clear that its maker had put a lot of care and effort into it, and he'd known it was going to be his winner.

He looked down at the little plaque at the base of the lamp that they'd had made specially.

_Jenna Spencer, 1st Place, 2011._

The first one he'd ever made for Garland had sat on the Chief's desk for years. He didn't know where it was anymore, exactly, but he wouldn't be surprised if it was still in the station somewhere. It had felt weird sometimes, knowing that this silly little thing he'd done once for his Dad had become something entirely different, this small thread that had woven itself into the fabric of Haven. A story told by a mother that inspired a child. He'd been exasperated by it, embarrassed and sometimes baffled, but every time he'd looked out of the corner of his eye and seen someone pause and smile like he was doing now, he'd never regretted it.

Sometimes things changed. But it was the little things, the traditions, the old familiar comforts that could be an anchor when everything else seemed like it was going to hell.

He touched his fingers to the plaque. Fairy-lights twinkled, and he watched their light ripple over his hand for a moment.

He carried on.


End file.
